The Bike Chronicles

Tuesday

Jul 16, 2013 at 12:35 PMJul 16, 2013 at 4:15 PM

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Every year at Little Indian Preschool, we have a Trike-a-Thon fundraiser. Most of the kids show up on their trikes, big wheels, and teeny tiny two wheelers with training wheels. However, there is always that really impressive three-year-old that zips around on a two wheeler like they cycled their way out of the womb.

None of my kids were that child.

I had this notion that kids would WANT to learn to ride a bike. This is based entirely on nothing, as I was going into 2nd grade before I was forced onto my awesome green schwinn with a white banana seat.

Of my three children, Ruby was the only one that learned before elementary school. And even then, it was after she had worn her training wheels down to the metal, and we refused to replace them. One day, she hopped on her bike and rode away. The end.

My oldest, not so much. He was going nowhere fast on his big wheel, so his grandma bought him a bike that looked like a motorcycle. Meh. Two years later, when he outgrew it but still needed training wheels, we told him he could pick out any two wheeler he wanted. Meh. He declared biking not his sport and someday, when his friends were on their way to frosty boy on bikes, he would walk.

One day, his friends were riding their bikes in the cull-de-sack behind us. He took his scooter. About 3 minutes later he came back crying, feeling left out. That was what he needed and he was flying solo the next day.

Fast forward four years. We are riding down the street on our family bike ride and I have my baby in the seat on the back. Only after her feet start hitting my ankles as I pedal, it dawns on me she is not a baby. I have a five-year-old kid on the back of my bike who has likely exceeded the weight limit of the seat.

For Rita’s 5th birthday we bought her a very cute pink bike with streamers. It sat unused for an entire summer. We missed the family bike rides so we popped on some ill-fitted training wheels. That worked for about 10 minutes.

Next we borrowed a 3rd wheel tandem bike to attach to the back my bike. That gave us back our family bike rides and Rita was happy barking orders at the driver.

This summer we told Rita that it was time. No more baby seat, no more tandem, no more training wheels. The fact that she could zip up and down the street on a two wheeled razor scooter told us that her balance was fine. She dug in her heels really well, so at that point we started pulling out the bribes. My husband enjoys the deprivations bribe: no ice cream at Frosty Boy for the entire family until she learns. She didn’t care. She just figured out how to talk her friends’ moms into giving her frozen treats. In the meantime, there was daily crying from her siblings.

I prefer the more direct approach: $10 to use on whatever she wants at Shopko. She tried to negotiate $15. That deal was on the table about for about a month.

Finally this week, she told us she was willing to ride her bike, but only long enough to get the ice cream and shopping spree. Her exact words were “I will ride my bike, get the ice cream and a big toy, and then I plan to forget everything, neener neener.”

Welcome to my world.

We dragged her outside, wrapped a beach towel around her waist (a tried and true method: parent hangs on to towel, child wobbles and can learn to self correct) and ran her up and down the street exactly twice (with her screaming ‘Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!’ the ENTIRE time) before we let go of the towel and she was off. She still screamed for a while, but then, something magical happened. She asked to ride down the block. Then down the street. The next day she yelled from her room “Whoever wants to take a bike ride today say Me! MMEEEEEEE!”

So there you go. Eleven years into parenting, and now all my kids ride two wheelers. My work here is done.

How did you motivate your child to ride a bike?

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Every year at Little Indian Preschool, we have a Trike-a-Thon fundraiser. Most of the kids show up on their trikes, big wheels, and teeny tiny two wheelers with training wheels. However, there is always that really impressive three-year-old that zips around on a two wheeler like they cycled their way out of the womb.

None of my kids were that child.

I had this notion that kids would WANT to learn to ride a bike. This is based entirely on nothing, as I was going into 2nd grade before I was forced onto my awesome green schwinn with a white banana seat.

Of my three children, Ruby was the only one that learned before elementary school. And even then, it was after she had worn her training wheels down to the metal, and we refused to replace them. One day, she hopped on her bike and rode away. The end.

My oldest, not so much. He was going nowhere fast on his big wheel, so his grandma bought him a bike that looked like a motorcycle. Meh. Two years later, when he outgrew it but still needed training wheels, we told him he could pick out any two wheeler he wanted. Meh. He declared biking not his sport and someday, when his friends were on their way to frosty boy on bikes, he would walk.

One day, his friends were riding their bikes in the cull-de-sack behind us. He took his scooter. About 3 minutes later he came back crying, feeling left out. That was what he needed and he was flying solo the next day.

Fast forward four years. We are riding down the street on our family bike ride and I have my baby in the seat on the back. Only after her feet start hitting my ankles as I pedal, it dawns on me she is not a baby. I have a five-year-old kid on the back of my bike who has likely exceeded the weight limit of the seat.

For Rita’s 5th birthday we bought her a very cute pink bike with streamers. It sat unused for an entire summer. We missed the family bike rides so we popped on some ill-fitted training wheels. That worked for about 10 minutes.

Next we borrowed a 3rd wheel tandem bike to attach to the back my bike. That gave us back our family bike rides and Rita was happy barking orders at the driver.

This summer we told Rita that it was time. No more baby seat, no more tandem, no more training wheels. The fact that she could zip up and down the street on a two wheeled razor scooter told us that her balance was fine. She dug in her heels really well, so at that point we started pulling out the bribes. My husband enjoys the deprivations bribe: no ice cream at Frosty Boy for the entire family until she learns. She didn’t care. She just figured out how to talk her friends’ moms into giving her frozen treats. In the meantime, there was daily crying from her siblings.

I prefer the more direct approach: $10 to use on whatever she wants at Shopko. She tried to negotiate $15. That deal was on the table about for about a month.

Finally this week, she told us she was willing to ride her bike, but only long enough to get the ice cream and shopping spree. Her exact words were “I will ride my bike, get the ice cream and a big toy, and then I plan to forget everything, neener neener.”

Welcome to my world.

We dragged her outside, wrapped a beach towel around her waist (a tried and true method: parent hangs on to towel, child wobbles and can learn to self correct) and ran her up and down the street exactly twice (with her screaming ‘Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!’ the ENTIRE time) before we let go of the towel and she was off. She still screamed for a while, but then, something magical happened. She asked to ride down the block. Then down the street. The next day she yelled from her room “Whoever wants to take a bike ride today say Me! MMEEEEEEE!”

So there you go. Eleven years into parenting, and now all my kids ride two wheelers. My work here is done.